


Chasing

by colsassacre (sassypanfriend)



Category: Proxy Series - Alex London
Genre: 1980s, Ancient Egypt, Bruh it's so late, Colonial America, Crusades, M/M, Nazi Germany, Obligatory reincarnation fic, POV Second Person, World War II, time periods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2427641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassypanfriend/pseuds/colsassacre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Insert cliche as fuck reincarnation fic title. Syd/Knox bc this pairing needs so much fic it's sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing

**Author's Note:**

> This is for u Jas (the sexiest egg to ever grace this planet)
> 
> this is so unbeta'd it's not even funny guys it's like 12:54 as I publish this and I have been watching X-Men movies for too long this is what my life has come to now
> 
> tumblr is sassacre-massacre go follow me yo

You know of him long before you meet him. You know of him before meeting him is possible, before the Earth is put into form, during the time that stardust is swirling and atoms are colliding. 

You know of him during the earliest times of humanity, when humans are learning things, farming and cultivating, all nestled in the thick fertility of the two rivers. You're a trader, here, selling your wares for food and other necessities. He appears one day in front of you. He smiles at something you say; his grin splits his dark, dust-stained face. You decide he is the sun, and you are the Earth, hapless to follow him, trapped in his gravity. 

You know of him in Egypt, whore you are both slaves. In the day, you both toil under the hot sun, the arid wind seeping into your lungs and burning you from the inside out. At night you make love to him; naked and ashamed of this sin that you both so willingly commit in the eyes of your god. You are both caught eventually, and whipped publicly. The sight of the lashes on his dark back are too much for you, and you break, screaming out in a voice that is cracked and dry from too long without water. You take his lashes for him; you die with a smile on your face and his smile in your heart. 

You know him during the First Crusades, when you leave your family o go fight for the Holy Land. It's strange in this new land, hot and dry where your home was wet and cold. You're taken captive during a skirmish, it's meaningless, really, but you're still taken regardless. There's a soldier in the group you're taken by, and despite the language barriers that exist between you two, he manages to be the kindest person you've met so far. He smiles frequently, and it's contagious, you swear. He brings you food often, and small sweet things. You cry when your fellow soldiers kill them in their sleep, and you cradle his body in your arms, mourning his smile and his death and the fact that he will never see another day. 

You know him in America, where he is your slave, though he isn't just that; he is your closest friend. Born around the same time in the same house, the only thing separating you two is your social class and skin pigmentation. Nonetheless, as you two grow older you only become more inseparable, snatching food from the kitchens of your manor and climbing your father's trees. You climb them all, apple and cherry and oak. It's in an oak tree, the only oak tree your father owns, that you kiss him for the first time, and you decide that this is one of your favorite lifetimes. You kiss him for the last time in that oak as well; one of the gardeners, jealous of the treatment that he receives, reports to your father about you two. They haul him away to the auction block while you scream, and soon after you're arranged to be married to a nice young girl on a neighboring plantation. 

You know him the first time you see him at the camp in Germany. You only see him a few times in this lifetime, but it's enough to recognize him. You feel as though you could recognize him anywhere. You could be raked across coals, be taken apart and be put together blind and you would still be able to recognize him by touch, by his voice, by his taste. He smiles at you the last time you see him, when you are on your way to the showers. You think of that smile as you crowd into the room with the masses. 

You recognize him when you meet him on a hot summer day in the 1980s. You jump into the pool foolishly, on a dare from your friends, never mind the fact that you are a terrible swimmer. Your subpar swimming skills are made even worse when you slip on the poolside and hit your head. The next thing you know, you're coughing up what is possibly the entirety of the pool while he hits your back, aiding you in coughing it up. You soon learn that he is in your grade but goes to a different school (unsurprisingly, given that you're white and he's, well, not), he has been swimming since he could walk, and his favorite comics are X-Men. He learns, in return, that you cannot swim to save your life (quite literally) and that the Avengers are your favorite. This is one of the few lifetimes where nothing bad happens to either of you; you live together well into adulthood, and retire into the countryside. 

You know him well into the future, in every possible lifetime and in every possible world. You know his heartbeat, his voice, all of it by pure muscle memory. You know him in the future where he is the harbinger of the Jubile and you are a punkass rich kid. You sacrifice yourself for him again with a smile on your face. You die knowing that time after time, life after life, you will always find him.


End file.
